A Moment of Eternity
by Uenki
Summary: Five years after Voldemort was defeated, Harry simply disappeared. Presently, Hermione’s a lecturer in a University and she was reading a book written by James Evans. The story written by the author reminded her of Harry. Could there be a connection? HHr.
1. Chapter 1

**A Moment of Eternity**

By Uenki

**Disclaimers: **I do not own Harry Potter. However, I own the plot.

**CHAPTER 1: BELIEF**

It had been five years since the Dark Lord, Voldemort, was defeated. He, who brought deaths, agony and great sufferings to the Wizarding World, was killed in the hands of Harry Potter, a young man whom was known as The-Boy-Who-Lived, due to the fact that he killed the Dark Lord as an infant. The time of perils and danger was over as peace was, once again, restored. The wizards and witches though were living in joy and bliss, has not forgotten of the dark lord.

Voldemort, the infamous dark wizard, was a reminder for the citizens in the Wizarding World. A reminder of pain that their loved ones were no longer with them and also a reminder that albeit they can perform magic, spells and incantations, darkness was always behind them, stepping on their shadows. Maybe the next time, there will not be a child who was willing to risk everything he had to save the Magical world.

There will be no 'The-Boy-Who-Lived' next time round.

_Muggle London, University  
- Five years after the defeat of Lord Voldemort_

"Oh, shut up John!" A girl shouted, jokingly as she grabbed a guy, John's, shoulders and pushed him to the canteen. Another man, wearing a maroon tee and baggy three-quarter pants followed them while calling his friends. "Hey, wait up!" The guy with the maroon tee waved his arms playfully as he caught up with his two friends and gave a playfully smack on John's back.

The woman who had been observing the little scene chuckled softly while tying her long, tresses of brown that reached her hip area, into a long braid. In her hands was a thick, leathered-cover book. She was a lecturer, her name was Hermione Granger. She graduated from a well-known University in two years at the age of twenty with straight As and she was the youngest lecturer in the University she was working at.

'They were so cheerful, just like how Harry, Ron and I were when we were in Hogwarts,' Hermione mused as she strode to the teachers' area in the canteen. She headed to the drinks stall and ordered a cup of coffee. She placed the book on the table and sat down on the bench. She placed the cup to her lips and took a sip of the coffee. She flipped open the book and started to read.

It was a book written by James Evans, the author of several best-sellers books in the Muggle World. The writer wrote mysteries that even entices the readers themselves. The suspense the writer have included in the story was just pure horrible. Readers have to buy all six books, current, to be able to feel satisfied.

The story touches on a fifteen year old boy, Jake, suffering from Multiple Personality Disorder (MPD). One of the personas was usually calm and gentle, loved and adored by others. The second persona was violent and rash and often tortured other people weaker them himself. Finally, as the personality develops, Jake started to become darker and more dangerous.

Jake committed many crimes and goes without unnoticed. It follows on the struggles that Jake was experiencing. The story written by James Evans allows readers to be sitting at the edge of their seat, chasing for every book that came out once a year, on ongoing.

However, what really made the writer famous was his untamed style of writing and his identity. James Evans never did went for any press, advertising on is books. The only thing his fans knew about him was that, James was a name for a male and his penname was James Evans.

Hermione was currently reading the sixth book for the fourth time. She was an avid devotee for the books. The book captures Jake's every struggle and somehow, it reminded her of the endless struggles that Harry had gone through before the last fight.

She remembered that Harry was just like Jake, being an obedient child, meting up the expectations of their professors, learning hundred times more a normal student would just to defeat the Dark Lord. Even though Harry was reluctant to follow, he still did, comforting his defiant nature to take nature's course. He did blow up sometimes, however, in the end; he still begrudgingly followed the elders' advices.

All of that happened five years ago. Presently, after their graduation, Harry just simply disappeared. No owls to his best friends, no Muggle phone calls, nothing. The Wizarding World was affected, hugely, as their savior, somehow, 'fled'. However, Harry's best friends knew better.

Ron and Hermione believed that Harry was simply taking a rest, after seventeen years of struggle and pain. He's going to go back, back to where his home was, someday. At least that was how Ron and Hermione believed in.

A light smile appeared on Hermione's lips. She remembered, a few days before the graduation, after the defeat of Voldemort, the whole gang was hanging out at the Great Hall.

_Great Hall, Hogwarts  
- Five years before, several days before Graduation_

"So, when we grow up, what do you guys want to be?" Luna inquired, dreamily, her tone was drifting faraway, her eyes glossy. Ron was simply chewing on the food in his hands, a drumstick, while taking a big scoop of mashed potatoes from the glass bowl onto his plate. Hermione paused, eyes scanning through the book in her hands. Harry just continued to eat and read the book that Hermione had lent him. Ginny gave a soft blush and answered meekly.

"Well, I… I want to be a Medi-witch," Her face went as red as her flaming red locks and Harry chuckled and commented on how well it suits her, since she was good at Potions and Herbology. Hermione closed her book with a soft snap and rose up her head.

"Well," she started, firmly, "I want to be a lecturer. I want people to gain more knowledge about the world and stuff that was happening around them. The Muggles should be more aware of their surroundings, like magic actually existed… and-" Hermione was cut off swiftly by Ron, who muttered, 'Typical Hermione'. She shut him up with a sharp glare. Harry was getting more into the conversation, and opened his mouth to speak.

"Well, I-" he was once again cut off by Ron.

"Ah, Harry should be going for Auror, should he not? I mean, you have been talking about that when we took the Ordinary Wizarding Levels," Ron suggested, aloud. Luna and Ginny agreed in unison and chatted on how nice Harry would be if he really does become an Auror. The conversation drifted off, Harry kept his head bowed low, a polite smile plastered on his face. Hermione noticed and frowned. She stood up abruptly, startling Ron. She picked up the thick book and pulled Harry wrist.

"C'mon, let's go, Harry," Hermione uttered softly under her breath. Ron started to blabber on his future career, like how was he going to be a professional Keeper for _Chudley Cannons. Hermione gave a huff of annoyance._

"I am going to the library, I know you don't want to go, see you later!" Hermione snapped, her brown orbs narrowing. Ron simply ignored her as she dragged Harry out of the Great Hall. When she realized that Harry was following behind and they were out of the Great Hall she leaned on the wall and turned back to face Harry, who was looking at her worriedly.

"Hermione, are you feeling okay?" Harry questioned, clearly concerned about her. His green orbs were gazing at her intently and she could feel herself reddening. Dear, sweet Harry was such a nice guy. A soft gasp escaped her lips when she felt Harry cold palms on her forehead.

"Um, Harry?" She called, uncertainly.

"No… Hermione's not having a fever," Harry murmured to himself as he placed his other palm on his forehead, checking the temperature. Hermione smacked his hands down playfully and blushed softly.

"You're so silly, Harry!" She chided, gently. Harry was obviously clueless. He mouthed a soft, 'what?', his emerald orbs had a mixture of confusion. Hermione grinned.

That was her Harry, the cute, sweet little moron, not the Harry who kept a distance away from others. He was Harry, her best friend, Ron's best friend, Harry of the Golden Trio. When Hermione turned and walked away, to the lake, Harry followed behind, jogging to her pace.

"Hermione!" he called, "Are we still going to the library?"

_University, Canteen  
- Five years after_

"Professor Granger!" One of her student called, snapping her back to reality. They reminded her that she was having a class in ten minutes time. Hermione smiled and nodded. She stood up and picked up her book, however, in the process, she knocked down the cup of coffee. It stained her white coat. Noticing that no one was around to notice that, she headed for the toilet, her pace quickened. Checking that no one was in the staff toilet, she took out a wooden stick, her wand, from her coat's pocket.

"Scourgify," she muttered, and the stain was removed. Sliding her wand back into the pocket, she picked up the book and headed for the classroom, two blocks away.

**A/N: **It's my first Harry Potter fanfiction, so, please be gentle. Thanks. Oh, this is a HHr Fanfiction. I am looking for a beta reader. If anyone's interested, please email me at Uenki.sama(at)gmail(dot)com.


	2. Chapter 2

**A Moment of Eternity**

By Uenki

**Disclaimers: **I do not own Harry Potter, MSN or the internet. However, I own the plot.

**CHAPTER 2: MYSTERY**

_Muggle London, Publishing Company_

June could not sleep. She was just too excited, trembling with joy even and that was putting it mildly. It was the 31st of August, the end of a month and with that comes one of the most spectacular points in her life. It meant that a chapter of James Evans' new book, Hole of Despair, would be sent to the company. June gulped the whole cup of coffee down her throat, feeling extremely hyper and awake. 'Maybe its just my brain' she mused.

A second later, she heard it, a soft flutter of wings. Every time she heard that, she knew it could mean only one thing…

June Reeves jumped up from her seat and tore though her house to the front door. She opened her front door with a soft click and poked her head out scanning for what she hoped to see. June practically squealed in delight when she saw the neatly packed, brown folder by her doorsteps. So with a shaky hand, June picked up the folder carefully, almost as if it was a sacred relic before giving it a tight, paper-crushing hug and running back inside.

"Oh my god! It's here!" she squealed, enthusiastically. She settled back into her seat, and pulled out the stack of papers and started to scan through it. Even if it's just a chapter, she noticed there was not even a single spelling error or grammar error. June wiped away her tears of elation with her sleeves and started to read through the contents, her face in a business-like manner.

_Muggle London, Dark Alley_

In a small alley, a tall man stood leaning against one of the building walls deep in thought. The man was garbed in a black overcoat that practically hid everything and added to the fact that he also had a pair of deep brown colored sunglasses on; it would be appropriate to say that he was traveling with the purpose of not being seen.

A white owl slowly circled above head looking for her owner. Once she spotted him she quickly flew downwards and landed onto her master's arms, carefully perching herself on it giving a small squawk in the process.

A smile crept up on her master's lips.

"Good job, girl," the man murmured.

"Time to go back home," he spoke clearly and with a soft swish of his cloak, he apparated away with a barely noticeable pop.

_Apartment, Study Room_

With a wave of her wand, a few stacks of information was levitated onto her study table, as Hermione found herself in a rather interesting conversation on phone with June. June was a friend from another university that worked in the publishing company that publishes James Evans' books.

"What?" Hermione exclaimed, her eyes bright, "Hey, don't tell me what is going to happen! Don't burst my bubble!" She blabbered as she headed to her fax machine and booted it.

"Oh shush! Fax the chapter to me, quick!" she muttered while June was teasing her with the story plot. "Ah, bye!" She cried and hung up the phone, not wanting to know the contents of the chapter.

Hermione remain seated on her chair. She picked up her wand that was on the table and muttered, "Accio FAKE," instantly a thick, leather-bounded, 574 pages long book zoomed towards her. It was the sixth book of Evans' series.

"Fake," the author wrote, "was something that was falsely presented. Just like a pretend feeling that one had made such as _a fake smile_." The sixth book, FAKE, was about the sadistic personality of Jake, Dark Jake, killing a man which happens to be his own father or rather his foster father.

The book was famous for the how well it captured the very essence of what is considered evil, allowing readers to experience the very emotions of what went though Dark Jake's mind. But the most famous event was Dark Jake killing his foster father. Jake hated his father, who treated him inhumane abuse, starving him, beating him and so on. The foster father, Steve, had even locked Jake up in a wardrobe, and punished Jake with a belt for offenses that he did not commit.

"You good-for-nothing imbecile," Steve would always bellow, dragging Jake forcefully by his arm and pulled him into the kitchen. Steve would start the stove and grinned as the fiery embers were lighted up. Then he would push Jake's cheeks near the stove amidst Jakes screams.

Occasionally, Jake's ears were burnt to the point where his skin started blackening and peeling off in dry flakes. If that wasn't enough horrible burn scars appeared at the side of his face as reminder of the torture he went though. Jake still remembered how he screamed for his foster mother, Belle. But no matter how loud he screamed, his foster mother would only weep silently and obeyed Steve's every command.

Jake was an intelligent child, he knew why Belle had not come to his rescue. She was afraid, if she had stepped out to rescue him, she would suffer more than what Jake had suffered. That was why, as years passes, he did not scream for Belle anymore. He always waited for Steve's special treatment to be over and then ran to Belle's comforting embrace.

Belle always wept silently and always blamed herself. "I should never had adopted you, hon. Then you wouldn't have to go through such torture… You'd never have to…" She would always whisper into his ears, caressing his forehead.

"It's okay mum," Light Jake would say and gently rubbed her back to comfort her. Jake knew, both Light and Dark that the hatred was only for Steve and Steve alone.

Dark Jake chuckled silently, a malicious sound running shivers down the spine of any being unfortunate to hear it, even more so to the man it was presented for. Dark Jake continued to emit that haunting chuckle as he approached his foster father with a demonic aura enveloping him. As Dark Jake pulled out a long sinister looking knife, Steve struggled to get out of the chains that bounded him, fear clearly etched onto the man's face.

Jake slowly started circling. Steve building up the tension, fear and hopeless of the man in front of him; to squash the very idea of hope in the remainder of his father's life. As Jake circled slowly, he watched as the horror and fear grew in his childhood torturer until finally broke the man, and that his father finally understood that no mercy or repentance was in store for him, only punishment for his actions. Dark Jake seeing this occur, finally completed his circle and stared into the terrified eyes of his demon. He stared long and hard, his eyes promising redemption for all the horrors he and his mother had went though.

Steve watched with wide eyes, seeing the pain and torture that was the boy was submitted too. He felt every emotion coming from the boy, remembering every abuse, seeing his very own actions towards the boy and with every new memory the more it ate at him like a parasite. Before he knew it he let out of piercing scream as the memories assaulted him one after another.

Dark Jake finally lifted the knife and slowly slid it down from the top of Steve's shoulders to the man's pudgy torso and finally to the base of the belly. As the blood flowed freely pooling below him, Steve continued his blood-curdling scream as the pain assaulted his very being.

Dark Jake would just laugh softly, for every scream that his foster father emitted it would send a shiver through him, a shiver of pure ecstasy and excitement down his spine. More was the only thing that Dark Jake wanted: more of his revenge, more of his torture, and most of all more of his father's screams. Dark Jake did not let Steve die there however, Steve was his entertainment, his therapy, you could say for his childhood. So he would heal Steve's wounds after every injury that he had inflicted only to have it repeat over and over.

Hermione always lets out a soft gasp as she read on till this point. Jake just reminded her too much of Harry. She often wondered if Harry had every pictured killing his relatives in his mind or ever dreamed of it. Forcefully, brutally, barbarically killing them off, one by one. Often when Hermione had visualized those scenes, of the caring Harry she knew, doing those 'stuff' that Jake was doing, it would form a grotesque image in her mind. Then, she would throw those images to the back of her mind. The Dursley she knew was alive and well, thank you very much, they were also very happy without the prick in their side known as Harry Potter.

At that moment, Hermione pulled out, from her drawer, a stack of parchments. It was, which Hermione graciously named, "Harry's bleak and dull letters". It was not exactly a stack, it was only eight pieces of parchments that Harry had sent to her after Sirius' death. Most of them have only one line wordings.

_I am fine, Hermione.  
I detest my uncle, Hermione._

That was the only two parchments Harry sent after his fifth year at the Dursley. The other six pieces were vaguely the same, however, the last piece, the most recent one was sent to her on her birthday, this year, 19th September. It 'magically' appeared by her bedside table when she woke up, together with a bouquet yellow Acacia and a present, which she almost stepped on when she woke up.

The present was a book, as expected, A Reason for Time by Sinclair Rose, a famed witch who did researches on time travel. It was one of the rarest books in the Magical World, only two books that existed. (Hermione did research on that.)

_Hermione,_

_Happy 22nd Birthday. I am alive and well, not dead yet, much to your disappointment._

At that point, Hermione had laughed.

_I hope you like the flowers and the present. I am not good at choosing gifts. I am somewhere and would like to keep it that way, please, do not try to look for me. Your tracking charm does not work, let me assure you. _

_Take care, would do you no good to get sick. _

_Love,  
Harry_

_PS Try not to mark your students' papers late at night, I it is not very healthy. I know you don't like it and I'm sure you're students aren't particularly looking forward for it either. _

Hermione traced her fingers on every word Harry wrote. A smile graced her lips when she knew that Harry had, once again, fondled with those thousands of tracking charm she had used, to find out where he were. A strange kind of warmth always does envelop her heart when she read through those words of concerns that Harry had wrote, specially for her.

That letter was her precious treasure. Sighing happily once more, she carefully placed the parchments back into the drawer.

"Colloportus," she muttered, sealing the drawer. Even though it was only Muggles who enter her apartment, she placed that charm for safe-keeping. To assure that some Muggle thief does not take her 'treasure' away. With a soft flick of her wand, FAKE was back in the bookcase. Hermione looked to her fax machine and noticed that the new chapter had finished being faxed over. She looked towards it longingly but decided to do her marking of scripts first. The she could read the latest chapter of the Evan's series before she went to bed.

**A/N: **Here's another chapter. I am, frankly, surprise and very much appalled at the amount comments I have received. It's a first time when I received seventeen reviews on the first chapter. I really do appreciate it and please, keep them going.

I found a BETA, his penname's **NL Kaos**, please check his fiction out if you have the time. It's very entertaining, a Ranma ½ crossover with Harry Potter.

Oh well, after **Nick** has revised through the chapter, I decided to keep his constructive criticisms for safe-keeping. :P It's worth for someone like me who wanted to improve my writing. (Sorry Nick, I have cased a lot of troubles for you. T.T)

(Ranma ½ is about this guy, Ranma, who got cursed when he fell into a cursed spring, Nyannichuan. Apparently, due to the cursed spring, when Ranma got showered on with cold water, he will turn into a girl. Poured on with hot water, he will turn back into a man. It's a comedy.)

**P.S. **For those of you who thought it was weird that Harry sent Hermione yellow Acacia (a type of flower) instead of roses, go check out what it meant. You will be surprised. (Or not.)


	3. Chapter 3

**A Moment of Eternity**

By Uenki

**Disclaimers:** I do not own Harry Potter. However, I own the plot.

**CHAPTER 3: GATHERING**

"Oh my, what a grotesque scene! How charming!" Luna exclaimed.

Luna had finally got to reading Evans' books, much to everyone's shock. There weren't many who haven't read or heard of Evans' books, luckily Hermione corrected the situation by insisting that Luna read the entire series. Evidently she thought that the death of Jake's father was charming…

Hermione raised an eyebrow at Luna's comment. Luna's way of thinking, always irked her deeply. It was just so illogical and random that Hermione had to wonder if Luna was born in the clouds. To Hermione, Luna was always in a dream-like-state sprouting out nonsense that most people wouldn't find outside of a confusing dream. Despite all this though, Hermione was glad for her presences, as she had done wonders for Hermione's redhead best friend, though Hermione did often wondered which quality of Luna had attracted Ron, or at least, looked appealing to Ron.

Hermione was currently at Ron's house for dinner, she did this often as a get together and to stay in touch with her school friends. With her living in the muggle world, it was a bit difficult to keep in contact with all her old school buddies, especially with them secluded in the wizarding world.

As of right now Hermione was having a nice little conversation with Luna about Evans' books to pass up the time while Ron finished dinner. It always amused her that the stereotypical household wife and bring home the bacon husband never applied to Ron's family. Especially with Ron doing most of the chores as Luna had the tendency to blow things up when dealing with household appliances. Luckily she makes up for it but doing outside errands. Like tonight, she was the one at the store while Ron was busily preparing dinner.

"Um, most people just will not say an ugly scene is appealing," Hermione corrected a few minutes later as she process Luna's comment. "Though, I guess everybody has their own opinion." She added on, uncertain. Luna just smiled, warmly as she closed the book with a soft thud.

"Dinner's ready," Ron called from the dining room.

"Coming" Luna and Hermione responded before standing up and heading towards the dining room.

Awaiting them was an assortment of foods, though, while plenty for everybody it did looked a bit charred on the edges. Hermione gave a small sigh. At least this time round, Ron's cooking had improved. When Hermione had said that Ron was cooking dinner, it would have been more appropriate to say that he was attempting at dinner, since his cooking skills were abysmal. As they settled in their seats, Hermione gave a couple compliments so Ron wouldn't feel to bad about this night's dinner. The boy just always feels so depressed after cooking.

"You're definitely improving Ron, in no time you'll be a master chef," Hermione offered one last time, but changed the topic when she noticed the words had no effect on the depressed boy.

"Oh, where's Mary?" Hermione ask, thinking about a the little girl that always seem to perk up Ron.

"Well, Mary is-" Ron started but was cut off by a loud, 'I'm here!'.

A redhead who looked no older than four scurried down the stairs loudly with a musical box in her hands. Mary grinned from ear to ear; her brown orbs were twinkling with joy when she noticed that her favorite 'Aunt' Hermione had come for a visit.

"Aunt Hermione" Marry exclaimed and tackled Hermione in a huge hug when Hermione stood up.

In the end, Mary was sitting on Hermione's lap with Ron frowning disapprovingly. All the while, Luna was laughing softly at the common site.

"Mary, you really shouldn't bother Hermione when she's eating dinner," Ron chided, gently. Unfortunately his lecture feel deft to the four-year-old as she poked her tongue out at her father and gave him an evil eye. "Blearghhh!" Mary cried, playfully.

"C'mon Mary, let's tuck in, okay?" Hermione questioned smiling gently and brushing Mary's hair backwards.

"Yes, Aunt Hermione!"

Ron sighed once again in a depressed mood. Mary was very close with Hermione even closer than Mary was to her father. Which isn't saying much since Mary was even closer with her 'Uncle' Harry, who would send her little gifts, than her own father.

As the small family finished up their dinner Mary suddenly then hopped down from her seat and jumped around with the musical box in her hands.

"Look, Aunt Hermione! It's the present Uncle Harry gave me last year! Wanna see?" And without waiting for an answer Mary promptly then opened the lid of the beautiful silver musical box. When the music box open a soothing melody flowed from it, making the occupants of the room feel relax and happy, much like a phoenix song would.

"Isn't it pretty?" Mary questioned, seemingly in bliss. Hermione nodded with a light-hearted smile.

It was then, two soft pops was heard. It was Draco, with his green and black robes and Ginny, with her red and golden robes. 'Some things never do change…' Hermione mused as she saw their outfits.

Unfortunately when Draco had apparated he accidentally ran into Mary when he tried to recover from the uncomfortable travel. In turn her musical box had slipped from her hands and shattered on the hard floor of the house.

Mary could only stare at the musical box, wide eyed as everybody else gasped.

"Now you really have done it, you bouncing ferret!" Ginny shrieked, her eyes ablaze.

"What, you old, tattered Weasel!" Draco stuttered slightly, thinking of a better word to describe the redhead he'd been dating for the past two years.

Ginny started screaming at the poor blonde, as all he could do was put his head down and nod every once in a while.

"Argh, shut up shut up shut up!" Mary screamed, almost bursting everyone's eardrums in the process. She was crying silently for her lost of her most precious gift and it broke Draco's heart.

Draco knelt down to the child's height, and tried to comfort the child, but it didn't help much.

"Look Mary, I am sorry, okay? Please don't be angry," Draco stumbled onto his words slightly, as he was not used to apologizing. Forcefully, Mary pushed Draco away and ran to Hermione, sniffling.

Everybody watched for a few minutes as the small girl wept into her Aunts shoulder, Draco had whipped out his wand tried to repair the music box with a 'Reparo' spell, however, to his utter dismay, nothing happened. Even though the shattered pieces did mended together, the music wouldn't play when opened. Draco picked up the box and handed it to Mary, who tearfully, accepted it. Hermione eyed Draco sympathetically but said nothing. Draco heaved a sigh and sat beside Ginny, who gave a huff of annoyance.

"Come on Mary, I will ask Uncle Harry to fix that musical box for you," Hermione reassured, ruffling Mary's head, while Mary gave her a hopeful look.

"Really?"

"Yeah," Hermione affirmed gently soothing the distressed girl.

_Apartment, Study Room_

Hermione eyed the musical box wearily, she knew nothing about mechanical devices or at least how to make them, what with her just saying 'Reparo' and everything automatically fixing itself, she had never needed to know how it work. But the music box was different. The 'Reparo' charm did fix the appearance of the box, but it didn't fix the melody and she knew the exact reason; Harry.

Hermione folded her arms as she fingered the palm-sized musical box in her hands. 'Harry must have done some alterations with this musical box using magic.'

With that thought, Hermione took out a parchment and a quill. She started to write to Harry. She sighed, hoping that this time it will reach him. She made a mental note that she needed to head to the Owlery in Diagon Alley to get her mail sent the next day.

_Cottage located somewhere on Earth_

Inside the little cottage was a mess. Books were strewn around everywhere, on the floor, on the table, in the sink. It was literally a librarian's nightmare and amidst the piles and piles of books sat a young man with his head cradled in his arms, sleeping.

A soft fluttering of wings was heard before a letter and a parcel fell directly on Harry's head.

Harry woke up immediately, thinking that it was some sort of disaster, however, after he glanced around he relaxed seeing as there was no threat. After a long moment, he stood up from the chair groggily and hurried towards the bathroom.

When he was all washed up and out of the bathroom with his spectacles on, he sat on the cushioned study chair. With a quick wave of his hand, the books on his desk was cleared away, all returning to their respective bookcases.

When he noticed the parcel, that he tore the paper package off and stared the music box confusedly, he knew it was the music box he had given to Mary as a Christmas gift last year, but he had no clue why he was holding it right now. Luckily his confusing was only short lived as he found two letters on the ground one from Hermione and the other one from Mary.

With a smile, he started on Hermione's.

**A/N: **Ta-daa! Done.


	4. Chapter 4

**A Moment of Eternity**

By Uenki

**Disclaimers:** I do not own Harry Potter. However, I own the plot.

**CHAPTER 4: UTOPIA**

"_It was not long before they wanted to seek for a utopia. A place where there is no pain, no suffering and no existence of the man known as Steve. Simply huddling in their mother's warm embrace was enough no more. They could not bear to see her getting hurt for them any more. They decided to escape and to search for a new utopia, and not too long afterwards, they found it._

_Wherever she goes, that is their utopia. She, that beautiful girl with the most striking cinnamon brown eyes they had ever seen." –FAKE, Chapter 3, Page 87_

_Cottage located somewhere on Earth_

In a cottage, there was a study room. Inside the study room, there was a table situated in the middle of the room. On the table, however, was a snowy owl with a sealed envelope on her leg, ready to take flight and a tall man who was playing with her as an act of appreciation. One last affectionate nip of her master's finger, Hedwig took flight and soared out of the window into the skies.

Harry gazed at the owl as he walked off, slamming the door of the study room in the process, leaving an exquisitely wrapped musical box and a read parchment on the wooden table.

Upon closing the door, Harry leaned onto the door and sighed, registering two facts in his mind, which is, Mary wanted to see him and Hermione was accompanying her to the Zoo in Muggle London tomorrow.

He bowed his head down and looked at the calloused and blood-stained hands of his. 'Am I ready,' he thought, struggling to keep his façade in check, 'to face her after all these years?'

James Evans was a reminder of his dad and mom and the people he have killed during the Dark War, but other than that, it was simply a pen name. 'For how long have I been impersonating Jake?' Harry thought, knuckles turned ivory white as he clenched his fists tightly, 'and for exactly how long have I been trying to escape from the reality? Without Hermione, do I still have the courage to live on?'

Harry was sick and tired of putting on a nonchalant attitude towards the whole world. Being all-too-cheerful, smiling 365 days and twenty-four hours, Hero-of-the-whole-Magical-World was draining everything out of him and all that was left was a weary mind and body. The deaths he had seen and experienced were countless, and the things that he wanted to change were all too immense.

At a mere eleven years old, Magic was like salvation because his life was miserable with the Dursleys. However, till now, magic was none other than a burden to be discarded of. That was possibly the reason behind Jake's existence, someone who does not experience loneliness and someone who could gain control of that he wanted to do.

Harry created a world using words, a world and a reality which could occur, if he was just an ordinary child, still living with the Dursleys. Everything could occur if his name is Jake, but he isn't. His name is Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived. He was not entitled to an ordinary life, just simply because his name is Harry Potter.

Yet, he would surely regret it if he was not a wizard, due to the fact that he would miss a possibility of meeting her, of meeting Hermione.

A sad, longing smile was etched on his dry and flaky lips.

Maybe, if he could comfort himself with the existence of Hermione, maybe he could, just maybe… be free.

That simple thought perished once it was being formed. He stole a glance at the yellow Acacia on a counter in the hallway as he picked himself up from the ground and approached it. Fingering the flora tenderly, a small, yearning and almost hopeful smile reached his lips.

'Harry Potter! How could you be so irresponsible and behave so capriciously when we are at the edge of danger, Voldemort could appear anytime and anywhere!' He could almost visualize Hermione snippets of nagging, anxious and anxiety etched on her face. He just realized, she almost never seemed to smile. The worried look in her eyes, the little frown that was constantly on her face and the concerns and care she held for him every time.

'That was just so… Hermione.'

_Lakeside, Hogwarts  
-Five years before_

"Harry Potter! How could you be so irresponsible and behave so capriciously when we are at the edge of danger, Voldemort could appear anytime and anywhere!"

He was lying down on the lush greenery when Hermione's forceful, a little strained voice reached his ears. He sat up, turned back and saw Hermione approaching him with a thick, leather-bound book in her hands. He shut his eyes tightly, waiting for a thunderous speech and Hermione's death glare to descend upon him.

Instead, it never came. What came was a tight embrace from a girl who smelt of parchment and ink. He opened his eyes in surprise to see Hermione's eyes glistening with unshed tears, appearing to say something but no words came out from her mouth.

"Harry… you…" he waited for her to calm down, stroking her back gently as an act of reassurance, but he regretted it the moment she regained her composure. "HARRY POTTER, YOU ARE SUCH A MORON!"

That deafening shriek caused him to be knocked out of his pace, his train of thoughts interrupted, his eyes widening in shock. Registering the fact that Hermione just called him a moron, it was no biggie. No biggie at all.

"We were all looking for you, Ron, Professor McGonagall, Professor Dumbledore, even Snape is looking for you! We were fearful, so fearful of you landing in Voldemort's hands! Your safety is the most important thing here, Harry! Could you understand? Can you understand? You…!" she paused, her outburst stopped as she slumped down onto the ground, hugging the thick book tightly.

"You are the world's most idiotic moron I have ever seen!" She finished, with Harry who looked absolutely speechless. Stifling a chuckle, he landed on the ground, looking at the azure sky and avoiding eye contact with Hermione.

"Sorry Hermione," he started, "I just need a breather, that's all." Hermione's gaze at him softened as she lay side by side with Harry, looking at the same sky as him and sighing softly. She understood, without a doubt, with the war pressing closer, Hogwarts became a place which suffocates every living human in it.

The leaves on the trees rustled, swaying and dancing in pace with the wind. The air felt fresh at the lakeside, and the owls were flying in the sky.

"It's amazing isn't it, Harry?" Harry diverted his attention to the girl beside him, "even if a war is raging, the color of the skies never change, greeneries still existed and the air felt as fresh as ever." He could feel himself agreeing and smiling to Hermione's words. Her words were almost magical, it always seemed to comfort him whenever he needed it the most.

He sat up and stood up reaching out a hand to Hermione. She sat up and eyed the hand questioningly.

"Let's go, Hermione," he ushered, as the wind blew graciously. Hermione smiled, a rarest kind that was hard to catch, she was happy and he felt complete at that moment.

It was simply like a moment of eternity.

_Cottage, Weasleys_

"Aunt Hermione!" A little girl called, her red hair tangled wildly, looking slightly disheveled. The woman known as Hermione, with her bushy brown hair tied up in a low ponytail, turned back and carried the little girl in her arms, who was waving a parchment.

"Mary, what's this?" she questioned, while Mary grinned from ear to ear. 'Even her eyes were smiling, just what happened?' Hermione thought, curiosity aroused.

"Uncle Harry said yes!" Mary exclaimed, while Hermione raised an eyebrow thinking that it was probably an okay to fix her broken musical box. "Uh-huh?" Looking at her response, the three going onto four years old frowned, looking dissatisfied and grumpy.

"Uncle Harry said yes!" She repeated, as she flashed the parchment into Hermione's face. It dawned on Hermione a millisecond after she skimmed through the one-sentenced letter. She gasped softly, a moment later, in surprise.

That cursive, slightly scrawny hand-writing was definitely Harry's, she could not be mistaken. She actually thought she was dreaming, but she felt Mary's weight on her lap, so she definitely was not.

"Mary… Did my eyes deceive me? Are you playing a prank on me?" Hermione asked, eyes never leaving the parchment that Mary was waving around and finally diverted her gaze to the child who had her arms folded in an adult manner, shaking her head stubbornly. She covered her mouth with both hands and large, pearly tears started to fall from her eyes.

_Sure Mary, I'll see you tomorrow._

**A/N:** I know I am a jerk and all, I haven't been updating for about a year plus now. I told you I am working on it, considering the fact that I have been STUCK for a year now. Writer's block, figures eh? I don't even dare to approach my ex-BETA for this story, hoho, fearing that he might scream at me. (No, he won't, on a second thought.)

If you fellows out there spot grammatical mistakes, please inform me and I'll change it! If you don't mind reading a story which updates inconsistently, then feel free to be my BETA. Well, I am sitting for my O Levels this year, and I certainly hope that I will have sufficient time to cope with this story.

I really wanted to write a lot of things about this story! But whenever I sit in front of the computer, I can't type anything!

Contact me via MSN **woonchee(at)hotmail(dot)com** or email me at **uenki(dot)sama(at)gmail(dot)com**.


	5. Chapter 5

**A Moment of Eternity**

by Uenki

**Disclaimers:** I do not own Harry Potter. However, I own the plot.

**CHAPTER 5: TORN**

She was flooded with conflicting emotions while she clutched the parchment in her hands, fingering it gingerly and gently. Hermione Granger was always prepared, and things like spells memorizing or lecturing was nothing to her at all. However, there had always been one person who did things which brought tremendous distress and astonishment to her at all times. That person was Harry Potter, not The-Man-Who-Saved-The-Magical-World, but simply 'Harry' alone. The Gryffindor boy always had a smile that filled others with hope, the boy who never failed to meet up to expectations, though slightly unruly at times, and he was the Harry she knew and loved.

Several knocks were heard from the door and in came Luna, who was carrying a tray of snacks and drink in her hands, and a smile on her lips. Hermione, who had noticed Luna's entrance, flustered for a slight moment and tucked the parchment into one of the pages in Fake, while trying to keep herself looking composed and calm. She returned Luna a smile and nodded politely as Luna placed the cup of hot milk and snacks on her desk.

"Thank you, Luna," uttered Hermione softly as she gazed at the woman who had settled down in a chair beside Hermione, "for both the supper and accommodating me in your house today."

Luna blushed slightly, embarrassed at the sudden appreciation and flailed her hand wildly. Hermione simply stifled a chuckle.

"It's okay, Hermione. Mary is closer to you than to us, her parents, and since Ron and I are busy tomorrow, I really do appreciate your help in babysitting her," Luna rattled on; some of her words unclear and slightly slurred. Hermione's smile never faded from her face. Hermione probably took Mary as her daughter, and perhaps it was her maternal instincts kicking in. Whenever she saw Mary, she would always wonder how her child would look like if Harry hadn't left.

'Our child…' Hermione mused, thoughts drifting quite far away from reality, 'probably would have his beautiful eyes and unruly raven locks with a studious personality and has a love of Quidditch.' Hermione's grin grew wider and she was snapped back from reality when Luna excused herself from the room. The door closed softly with a click and Hermione glanced at the thick fiction book. She took it, opened the book and took out the parchment. Her fingers were placed on a sentence which caught her eyes.

"… the amount of things she knew never ceased to amaze them. When they were down and helpless, she always seemed to step in and pull them out from the forlornness, picking them up from where they fell. Their only refuge was through letters, sending her their thoughts with comfort and reassurance in her words. 'If it was this girl, it will be all right,' they thought, even if they were off for a war, just simply knowing that they are protecting this special girl, everything would be okay." The words that the author wrote had a strong feeling of nostalgia. The words that he wrote simply felt so familiar; as if he had gone through it before. She placed the parchment down and picked up the book, scanning in more details. It was like a messed up puzzle, something fits, but it never seemed to fit.

"The girl would always frown when she saw the bruises on their bodies and her brows would furrow slightly. She would lecture them for hours, mentioning how they could endure being hurt by Steve, yet not knowing that they only kept the bruises because they wanted to be showered with her concerns. It was a twisted love, they both realized. Someone as filthy as them could not possible have the love of this girl. They were unworthy, was the only conclusion they came to, because their hands were stained with blood. Steve's blood." Hermione seemed to have goosebumps whenever she read those paragraphs. Jake's love was wild, alluring and sometimes horrifying. Yet, perhaps, maybe… all these seemed to have only one connection. A simple, though complicated connection which is full of conundrums.

Hermione picked up the book and closed up, the book cover facing her. Her eyes widened, startled, when she saw the penname of the author.

'Could it be…?'

_Cottage located on Earth_

_The next day, Morning_

Harry scribbled furiously on the parchment, his brows knitted in furrow, cold beads of perspiration rolled down from his forehead. 'I believe that there's no book that Hermione have not heard about and there's no riddle that she cannot figure out,' he thought as he bit his lips unconsciously. Harry also thought of Hermione as being observant. She was always the one who could solve complicated incantations and whip up several useful spells in times of need. 'Possibly this time… If she read my books… she would see, would she not?'

Harry closed his eyes, arms slack and settled in a comfortable position on the couch. Fake's appearance had a purpose since the whole series was simply written for her. It has always been like that, since the day when he decided to write stories that revolved around Jake. She was the only person whom has been decided in the series right from the start, with no hesitation and uncertainty. Everything occurred because her name is Hermione Granger, the girl whom he loves.

A loud, deafening alarm clock sounded, causing the man to blot up from his seat, eyes wide and wand pulled up from the holster defensively. He blew a sigh of relief when he noticed that it was only an alarm clock. Partly reprimanding himself that he was too jumpy lately due to thoughts on Hermione, Harry glanced upwards and saw the time on the clock.

"Oh shit," he cursed softly, if he didn't change into fresh clothes at this very moment, he was going to be late.

_Muggle Zoo, in one corner_

_Afternoon_

Hermione had decided on something simple, as Harry didn't like extravagant accessories or clothes. She wore a pair of blue jeans, a tee shirt together with a pair of matching silver earrings. It was something she wore often in the university and it was more comfortable than any other attires.

Mary was happy, noticed Hermione as she hid a smile. Mary was dressed in normal Muggle clothes, something she rarely did, being always in the Wizardry world. She was practically bouncing from place to place while eyeing at several different animals. Hermione wondered blindly about the things that Ron had taught Mary, due to the fact that Mary only knew about the fellytone and not knowing about Muggle clothes were simply ridiculous.

The thoughts that were drifting faraway were all trailing back to one person, like a rivulet which trails back to the vast sea. Her mind was full of him, Harry Potter, and the connections he had placed all around; it was just like he was playing a game with her, a simple game of hide and seek. She clenched her fists tightly and her vision blurred slightly. She felt angry because she didn't understand the reason behind his antics, because it was only a choice to him. To be back or not to be.

"Mary, don't wonder around too much –" she paused when she noticed that Mary was not beside her anymore. Crowds were formed like a barrier around her, and she could not see the familiar red head bobbing anywhere. With her jaw clenched tightly, she turned around and started to back track, her frantic mind trying to keep herself composed and calm. 'Mary… Mary!' She called in her head as a boulder was stuck in her throat. She had experienced this feeling before, she noticed, it simply felt like the day Harry had gone missing and he never came back.

_Muggle Zoo, at another corner_

_Afternoon_

"Aunt Hermione?" The child called, looking around for the familiar woman. Mary paused in her tracks as the passer-bys whizzed pass her, her red head bobbing around searching for someone she knew. Mary always thought she was a sensible person who could think straight even when she was lost, however, her thoughts proved her wrong. At that moment, she wanted to cry. Tears started to flood her eyes as they rolled down. She sniffed and wiped away the tears with the sleeve of her clothes.

A moment later, she heard someone calling her. It was an unfamiliar voice, deep, slightly hoarse yet matured. Mary turned back, and saw a man who was dressed in a pair of ripped jeans and a simple white buttoned down shirt and in his hands was a semi-transparent paper bag which contained a musical box. Her eyes widened when she saw his face, a lightning blot scar were etched on his forehead and a pair of radiant emerald orbs were looking straight at her.

She knew this man, Mary noticed, though she hadn't meet him in person before, she had always seen him in her daddy's photo album and in Aunt Hermione's wallet.

"Uncle Harry!" Mary called, grinning with her eyes brimming with tears, as she lunged forward and tackled Harry's long legs. Harry smiled fondly and ruffled her head. Mary had grown up, Harry noticed, the first and the last time he had seen her was outside of the Weasley's cottage, with her as a newborn infant. She had grown like a beauty, just like her mother and had inherited his father's flaming red locks.

"Hello Mary," he crouched down, his smile never fading as he handed the paper bag to the child. The girl gave a huge smile and took it enthusiastically. Harry appeared to be slightly hesitant as he continued his next question. "Where's your Aunt Hermione?" As soon as that question was asked, the child's smile faded and formed a frown.

"I… don't know," she replied, feeling sorry as it was her fault that she wandered around. Harry took her little hand and placed it on his big one. He drew something on her palms and hid a smile while Mary stared at the man quizzically.

"Now Mary, I placed a little charm on you. If you walk straight down this pavement, you'll see your Aunt Hermione," Harry murmured softly. Mary seemed gleeful as she turned away and ran towards the pavement without haste. A moment later, she banged into Hermione who was going hysterical. Hermione clutched her small shoulders tightly, lecturing her again and again not to leave her side. Mary simply nodded obediently.

'A musical box?' Hermione noticed. "Have you seen Harry, Mary? Tell me!" she demanded, startling the child slightly. She had waited so long for this day, and she was not going to let any chance slip by. Marry nodded and pointed to the direction from where she came. Hermione grabbed the girl's wrist as they sped down the pavement. Upon reaching their destination, both Hermione and Mary glanced around but spotted no sight of Harry.

"Harry?" Hermione uttered under her breath, "Harry? Where're you?" She called, softly. Mary tilted her head up and took a glimpse of her Aunt Hermione. She seemed different from any other normal days, Mary thought, her Aunt Hermione was usually calm and often at peace. The Hermione that the child had seen today seemed like she was close to breaking down. Mary stood beside her Aunt as she clapped her hand over her mouth, as beads of tears rolled down like glistening pearls from her eyes.

'Are you okay, Aunt Hermione?' was what the child wanted to ask. However, looking at the woman at this state, no words seemed to come out from her lips.

_In a secluded corner away from the Zoo_

Harry Potter smashed a nearby tree trunk with his bare fist. His façade almost broke the moment the saw Hermione approaching his way several minutes back. The all-too-familiar scent of blood reached him when blood streamed down from his knuckles. At the very last moment, he do not dare to face her simply because he felt unworthy.

"I am such a useless coward…!"

**A/N:** What an angst!Harry. **Nick**, if you're reading this chapter, I tried to mail you but no reply came back. Hence, I asked **EmotionlessNightmare** to BETA read for me. Thanks for the help both of you two have offered, you two are saviors, seriously! Also, since **moodyboy66** told be that the chapter was tiny, I tried to increase the chapter length slightly, but it still ended up with a cliffie. I hoped you guys enjoyed this chapter, sorry for the delay and cheers! ;D

After finishing **Nightmare's** edit and comments, I have to say a huge thanks and a surprised 'Wow!'. ;D He or was it she (?) was absolutely amazing in editing! Highly detailed!

Take care and enjoy,

Uenki.

P.S Thank you for reviewing, it helped me tons and became a source of my motivation to continue on this fiction. (:


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